I swung open the fridge door. A bottle of skimmed milk flew out and splattered onto the floor, its lightly screwed-on red lid shooting under the counter. Milk gushed out in a pool of glistening white effluent, seeping across the linoleum tiles and under the cupboards.
I'm not having the best day. I trudged through the office, fetched a mop and I trudged back, ready to clean up the mess. That's how it works - you make a mess, you're responsible for cleaning it up.
When I'd finished I wearily plodded my way through the office to return the mop and bucket and the Caution Wet Floor! notice I'd borrowed from the cleaners' cupboard, carrying the items in each hand.
"Been promoted?" said someone, raising a cheeky eyebrow.
Unbelievable.
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